


Lindiranae's Fall

by lilithfatale



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Elf rights, Gen, fuck the chantry, they committed genocide in the Dales and no one comments on it? like? wtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26047285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithfatale/pseuds/lilithfatale
Summary: Cassandra is enthusiastic about Chantry history. Enid Lavellan is very much not.An exploration of how an elven Inquisitor might feel, upon finding Memorials of the Second Exalted March.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Lindiranae's Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I have been an avid Dragon Age fan for a while now and finally, I have written some fic.
> 
> This is inspired by a trek through the Exalted Plains with my elven Inquisitor, on my first playthrough.

LINDIRANAE’S FALL

_ Remember the victory of the Dales. _

_ The elves were murderous and wild, for the Maker’s grace did not touch them. The wildest of them was the she-elf Lindiranae, wielder of the great blade Evanura. Defiant to the last, she met Ser Brandis, the Silver Helm, in single combat, and he bested her. With Lindiranae fell the Dales. _

“To think,” Cassandra remarked, staring up at the memorial stone with wonder. “Chantry history was made here.”

Varric glanced sideways at the Inquisitor. Enid was motionless, her face betraying nothing as she stared at the inscription. “Cassandra,” he began.

The Seeker continued, not hearing him.

“I read about the Second Exalted March as a child. A fight for faith and glory..it seemed so romantic.”

“Cassandra.”

“Ser Brandis, the Silver Helm. They never knew what became of him.”

“Cassandra!”

The Seeker turned to Varric, annoyed at the interruption. “What?”

Varric gestured pointedly to their elven companion, who was still staring blankly at the memorial.

“My people died here,” Enid said. “There is no glory in genocide.”

There was an awful silence. 

Enid straightened her shoulders, turned on her heel, and walked off.

“That went well,” Dorian remarked.

Cassandra scowled at him, but did have the decency to look a little ashamed. “I didn’t mean-"

“She knows,” Varric said gently. “But it doesn’t matter much right now.”

The three companions watched the lone figure sit down on a rock in the distance.

“Someone should talk to her,” Varric said, “and no offence, but it should probably be me.”

“None taken. I can’t imagine that a Tevinter mage would be welcome,” Dorian agreed. ”Or an Andrastian.”

Cassandra looked a little offended. “But we are her  _ friends _ .”

Varric gave her a look. “You're _humans_.”

He walked off to find Enid, muttering under his breath as he did so.  Cassandra watched him go, looking uncharacteristically lost.

“Solas or Sera wouldn’t be much use either,” Dorian said cheerfully. “It’s not Fade or spirit-related. I do believe Sera would rather not be an elf at all.”

Varric joined Enid on the rock. They were too far away for Cassandra to follow the conversation. 

“I didn’t realise,” she said, a little quietly. “Do you think she always feels so alone?”

Dorian patted her shoulder, but did not reply.


End file.
